Strong, Sleek and Sinful - By Lorie O'Clare Page 0,42
Kylie that she couldn’t get it out of her head when her mother told her to let Karen go and to start living with the living and not with the dead.
No matter what her mother said, Kylie didn’t believe she was living on autopilot, simply rehashing the same crime in her mind over and over again, determined to replay it until finally she saved every teenage girl out there. Kylie knew she wasn’t Superwoman. She knew girls would be sexually molested, tortured, and killed no matter how hard she worked. But she was good at what she did, very good. If she wasn’t, the Bureau wouldn’t continually assign her to every sexual predator case when local authorities contacted the FBI for help, or when the agency determined a case merited their intervention.
For a moment she felt her mother’s arms around her, hugging her good-bye before she’d headed back up here from Dallas. Her mother was so much smaller, almost frail. Kylie had held her for several minutes, feeling the warmth and the love. And in spite of not agreeing with everything she said, Kylie had promised to visit again as soon as possible. She meant it, too. This weekend had reminded her that her family wouldn’t be around forever. Someday she would have to cope with losing more family members, and she wanted to spend every minute she could spare enjoying time with both of her parents before that day happened.
“Kylie, good, you’re here.” John Athey ran his fingers down his tie as he stood, walking around the table and extending his hand to Kylie when she paused in the doorway to the briefing room. He patted her arm, a fatherly gesture, instead of shaking her hand.
“I hope I’m not late.” She knew she wasn’t although there were already several men sitting around the rectangular table in the meeting room. “There was construction all along the highway this morning.”
“This town is always like that,” John said. “And no, you aren’t late at all. Let me introduce you. You already know Paul, of course.”
“Yes.” She smiled at Paul, who nursed a hot cup of coffee.
“This is the chief of police for Mission Hills. Murphy Radisson, this is Special Agent Kylie Donovan. While here, she’s working undercover as ‘Kylie Dover.’ ”
The chief of police was a large man, who stood slowly from the other side of the table and extended his hand. “It’s a real pleasure to meet you, Ms. Donovan,” he said in a deep voice.
Kylie took his hand, feeling his warm, strong calloused fingers grip hers in a firm handshake. “Please, call me Kylie,” she insisted. “And it’s good to meet you, too, Chief Radisson. I look forward to discussing this case with you.”
“Which is why we’re here,” John said.
“Call me Rad,” the Chief said, playing old school and sitting when Kylie did. He placed his hands, palms down, on two stacks of manila file folders. “And I appreciate your coming to Kansas City to help us out on this case, Kylie.” He turned his attention to Paul and John. “I’ve gathered additional information since I first sent over what we had so far on this case.”
His knuckles were large and he didn’t wear a wedding ring. There wasn’t even an indentation where a ring usually would be. He was either a confirmed bachelor or too much of a man to be bothered with such trivial jewelry as a band on his finger to confirm his love to one woman. Kylie would put him somewhere around fifty, in good shape, although a bit weathered around the edges. She wondered what his opinion of Perry was, and mulled over whether or not to bring up meeting with his nieces and having them, as well as him, over to her house for pizza last Friday.
She would hear the Chief out and then decide what information she would offer. Getting comfortable in her seat, she pulled her notebook out and opened it. The first thing that caught her eye in her scribbled notes was the block letters PETETAKESU. He’d been silent all weekend, which meant he was either on the prowl or unable to use a computer without getting caught over the weekend.
“We’re concerned with the information we have so far that our perp might be a city employee,” Paul began, speaking up as he put down his coffee cup. He opened the laptop in front of him and stared at it while continuing to talk. “More to the point, we could be